


Deal

by somnivagrantTraviatus



Series: Deal [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence (Gravity Falls), Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Zalgo Text, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnivagrantTraviatus/pseuds/somnivagrantTraviatus
Summary: Alcor meets an unusual demon.





	Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Posted at the behest of the Transcendence AU Discord.
> 
> I don't own Alcor the Dreambender. I'm pretty sure Alioth owns me.

If Alcor the Dreambender had been bothering with something as pointless as keeping track of time this particular decade, he would have said it was about three o’clock when the summons didn't arrive.

It was small, with a clumsy feel to it – a child’s first summoning, from someone nine to twelve years old – and he never would have noticed it not arriving if he hadn't been both himself and completely unoccupied. As it was, he had just enough presence of mind to recognize the fury rising at _someone else taking his summoning_ before he found himself in a child’s bedroom, watching invisibly as said someone answered the call.

(No wonder it had never gotten to him, he noted clinically. The circle was a total mess.)

The candles flickered. Blown by a nonexistent breeze, the smoke went sideways, and then a long shadow stretched away from the circle and up the wall. Pale golden light shone through its closed eyes, and in the hollow of its chest, a tetrahedron winked into existence.

> _g͢r͟eet͞i̷nģs_ <

“...You're not the Dreambender,” the child ( _Ben Ryman, eleven, nearly twelve. Has an enormous crush on Rois Della, who’s way too good for him. She’ll ask him out on January 21st, after breaking up with her current partner. They'll last about two months_ ) said.

> _no̶_ ,< the demon agreed. Except – oh, this was _interesting_. With the amount of energy he gave off, even the biggest demons (and this must be an incredibly minor demon, if _he_ couldn't recognize it) trembled in Alcor’s presence, but this one didn't even seem to notice him.

(He could repay its insolence _after_ figuring out why it wasn't cowering.)

The tetrahedron turned towards the circle. > _y͞o͠ur s̷y̧m̢b͠ol͟s ͏a͞nd r͜u̵n͡e͜s͡ ar̷e ͘muddled͠. a̴ ̢th͘in̛n͠er chal̢k ̶woul͜d ̨ha̸v͏e ͘m͜a͜d̵e y̕our a͘ttem̷pt ͢m͢o̡r̨e ͡su̴cc̷e̶sşfu̕l_ <

“Oh.” Ben grimaced. “Sheesh. I knew I should've used a pen.”

The room was silent. Alcor took the opportunity to sidle closer.

“Hey… you’re still a demon, though. Right?” Ben leaned forward eagerly. “Which means you can net me a date with Rois!”

The shadows dripped upward as the demon pondered this. > _it̕ m̢ay ҉b̢e within my c͟a͝p̸ąbi̕l͝it͟y̧,_ < it finally admitted. > _w͝hat̶ ̨do̡ you ͞ha̡v͞e̡ to o͢f͢f̕er?_ <

“You could take my sister,” Ben offered. “Two firebirds with one stone, right?”

Alcor glared. The room’s temperature dropped by four point six degrees.

The tetrahedron continued to spin idly. > _my̸ ͏do̴m̧ai̧n͏ ̶is ̧kn̴ow̶l̴ed͠ge_ <

“Worth a shot.” Ben thought for a moment. “I could get you a book or something?”

> _a pro͟p͞os͟al:̧ i̛n̸ ͢ȩx̵chan͠g͢e ͞f҉or͘ y͘ǫur͟ ̸t͡hird͞-fa͝vori͡te̷ ̛so͘ng and you͡r͟ m͝em̴ory͞ of͏ t̢h̸i̸s ̧sum̢mon͢i̧n̢g͞,͘ y̧ou w̛iļl ̷K͟now̶ when ͢i̕t̢ ͞is ̸most͡ ̶f̡o͝rt͝uit͢ous̕ fo͡r ̨y̧ou͠ t͞ǫ ͠ask R͠oi̕s D̡el̵la͢ o̵n ͟a̸ ҉d̸at҉e. are yo̧u ͢a͢m̛en͜a̛ble ̕to t҉his͜?̡_ <

He grinned and held out a hand. “Deal.”

Alcor stared, dumbfounded, as a hand materialized out of static and sealed the deal. The shadow’s eyes opened, golden light paralyzing the human in its gaze, and then Ben was blinking his vision clear as the demon faded from the physical plane.

That was it?

No blood, no screaming. Heck, it had even given him a fair deal! What kind of demon _did_ that?

It had been fifteen years (or somewhere close to it. Again, not keeping track of time) since he had last heard from his human side, but this new mystery had it stirring, urging him to do whatever it took to get answers. Maybe that was why, instead of checking in on Sirius’s latest reincarnation ( _Ece Oliviera, 23 years old, in a small town in Portugal_ ), answering summonings, breaking up cults, running maintenance on Alvie, or making some much-needed updates to his answering machine, Alcor found himself following the other demon into the Mindscape.

...or, at least, _attempting_ to follow them. Alcor face-palmed. Of course, they were nowhere in sight.

He tessered to the Veil.

There they were, still resting on the same wall. They hadn't even moved. (Did they ever move?) ( _Only to get to the next summon._ ) ( _A shadow on a wall in Morocco. The girl[Khadijah Teheri]’s mother [Rachida Khalil] leaves angry messages for the many mechanics who have failed to fix a perfectly functional heating unit. The shadow watches, and waits._ ) By the time they noticed him, Alcor had already blinked the last of the vision from his eyes and caught their tetrahedron between his claws.

Its corners bashed against his fingers like a trapped bird. He grinned (too wide) ( _good_ ) (this isn't right) ( _g̠͈͎̗̘̹͠o͡҉͓̪͇̲̭̦͍̞o̻̯̝͇̬̱͝d̤̥̰̲̻̭͉_ ) and took them both to the Mindscape.

“G͡i̕v͏̢e͡҉ ̕m̸͏͟e͝͝ tr͢͠u̷̴̕e̛ ̡a̡͜ns̕w͟e̢r͞s̶̛ ̴̧͟t͞o͜ ͠al̕͘͟l̢ ̸͡t̨͡h҉e͞ ͘͞q͝u͠eş̷t͜i͘o̷n̷̢s I̴͟ ą̡҉s͢k̛͏̴ yǫu͟,̶͠ ͘͡a҉̸ņ̕d I'ļl ̨spa̸r̡̧̕e͘͟͡ ̡y͝o̢͟u̷͠r̴̶͠ l̶̡͟͞͠i͟f͢͞e̴͟͝҉.̧”

> _d̴e҉al͡_ <

“Real҉l͟y? How̶ _bo̷͢͟r҉͏i̡n̴̵͜g̸̷̕͜.͜͝_ ” Regretfully, he withdrew his hand, beginning to admire his claws instead. “I was hoping I'd get to p͘r̷y ͘th̷e ͝inf̷o o͜ut o͏f ͏you, but I guess we all have our... _d̡i͜s̕app͏ǫi̡n̕t̛m̢e͝n̨ts._ ”

The other demon seemed unaffected, despite the 1.07% increased rate at which their shadows were roiling, and there was a ragged speck of blue polish in the corner of one claw. Alcor sighed and sobered up a little. “First question – why the hell would you agree to a deal like that? You and I both know there were tons of loopholes. What do you get out of it?”

> _wh̵i̕c͝h ̵de̡a̶l͘ ̸are ̵y͏o̶u r̕e͡f̛e̶rr͘in̡g̕ ̕t̵o͢?_ <

“Either of them?” He frowned. “No, wait – do you do _all_ your deals like that?”

> _i̶ ̴kee͞p͜ th̶ȩ de͜alş ̶i m̵ak̛e a͟s͟ fai͏r as p͡o̵s̷s҉i̢ble,͠ ye͜s_ <

“ _Why?_ ”

There was a pause. > _i͝ ̴mu̡st. the ̢glaşses ̛m͝a̸n ͟t͠o̴ld ҉m͢e̷ to͏_ <

_The glasses man? Wait –_ “ _McGuckett?_ ”

The tetrahedron spun uncomfortably. Now that he was looking for it, Alcor could see the unnaturally natural way the structure caught the light (and it was made of _metal_! How had he managed to miss that?), the way the shadows dripped in the same pattern over and over. (Actually, hey, that was great way to set a human’s teeth on edge. Very subtle. Maybe he'd try that next time.) He whistled. “Damn, that's impressive. How’d the old man manage to pull it off?”

> _i a̧m ̡con͡t̡rac͟t̢ual̵l̸y o̧bli̛gat҉e̵d̡ ̶ţo t҉el̷l̨ ̸no ̸o̵n̨e̵ ab͏o͞u͘t t̴he̸ ͡c̶ir͠cumsta̸nc̴es ̛of͢ ̛my cr̡eaţi͢o҉n_ <

“Probably a good idea,” Alcor agreed. “Did it have anything to do with a bunch of machine parts, bottled lightning, and sudden exposure to demonic energy?”

> _į can͞ ҉neith̵e͡r ͘cơnf͘i͜rm̶ ̢no҉r ҉d͠e͢n҉y͠ ̸–_ <

“Yeah, thought so. It’d explain what happened to Baii, at least.” He flipped to watch them from upside down. “Now, what should I do with you?..”

> _you s͠hou͢l͘d̕ ̷tąķe̶ ͝me̶ o҉n as an assis͢t͏a͞nt҉_ <

He stared at them. “What?”

The tetrahedron shivered, but rallied quickly. > _y̶ou tơld҉ ͘me to̶ g͡i̸ve you tru҉e ̨a͠n̢swers̵ ͏t̢o̸ y͢our҉ questio͜n͘s. t͞h͝is ͞is ̸a ͟tr҉ue ͠ans̴w̴er: y̕ou n҉ee̶d̵ a̧s̵si̧s͞t͝a̴nc͞e ̧t̷o answer y̷o͡ur ͞ma҉ny ҉su͞m̢mǫnin̢gs̡. y͜our an̛swe͜ring machin̨e, w͠hile̛ a cleve̕r ̷w͜a͟y͜ ͘to ̸h̨a͝n̨d͝l͞e ͟e͠x̧c̨e̵ss̢, is no̴ lo͘n̸g̴er̸ u̡p t͜o̴ ͟the̵ ͟ta̴sk. i̕ am a͢n̨ ̷ide̢al̵ r̸eplac̴em͏e͜nt̶.̢ this ͢is̶ ̴the̵ ͞best ̢w͏ay͝ to ̧appea͏s͡e your͝ u̧rge͞ to̧ k͜e͝e͜p ̕me ͝un͢der͡ ̡y͢our s̴upe͘rvisi͝o̸n_ <

Alcor righted himself, weighing their words. It was true that the answering machine wasn't making as much of a dent in the summonings as it used to, and even he had to admit that the thing was getting old. But… it was one of the last records he had of Mizar – no, of _Mabel_. The last way for him to hear her voice, the songs she loved to tease him about. Giving up on it would be like giving up on _her_.

On the other hand, no one said he’d have to _give up_ on it. Maybe he'd just… phase it out. Let the newbie pick up the slack, while the answering machine enjoyed a nice retirement. He could introduce it to the last of the sweater stash, who would undoubtedly be willing to share their martinis and welcome it into the fold.

_Man. Mabel would've loved that._

He adjusted a cufflink, smile only slightly bittersweet. “Okay. He̛re's͠ the̸ d҉ea͡l̴:̷ You’ll take any of my summonings that aren't answered by either myself or the answering machine.” He paused. “Or Lepus, I guess. Actually, make that any of my summonings that aren't answered, full stop. The deals you make will be fair – no taking a kid’s soul in exchange for a new crayon or anything like that – unless the proposed deal is intended to cause unwarranted harm, in which case your terms can be as unfair as you'd like. If you make a deal I don't like, _yo̴u ̕will h͝ęa͢r̛ ̧abo̶u͡t it._ ”

They remained unmoved by the threat. He made a face and continued. “I reserve the right to pop in and check on you, and to renegotiate terms, at any time. In exchange, you'll receive… oh, let's say a sixteenth of a quadrillionth of a percent of my power, and .08 percent of the spoils from every deal you make. Sound good?”

The tetrahedron spun for a moment, taking in the terms. Finally, it bobbed in a facsimile of a nod and materialized their hand. > _i ̧ac̷cept͞ t̴h̨e͝se ͜co͜nd̡it͞ions͢_ <

He grinned and took it. “Looking forward to working with you.”

Their clasped hands burst into blue flame. As Alcor looked on, the other’s hand seemed to melt in the heat. Motes of static trailed back to the main body, accompanied by specks of flame, and then the tetrahedron hissed, molten iron dripping onto the imaginary ground and they were suffused in fire and burning.

Was that ringing in his ears a scream, or just tinnitus? He stuck a finger in one ear and wiggled it around a little, to no effect, then flicked away the resulting wax with a shrug. It'd end soon, either way.

Three minutes and forty-eight seconds later, the fire burned itself out. The scream tapered to a stop moments after. 

In the resounding silence, Alcor surveyed the changes. The other demon (and they were a true demon now, not a haphazard imitation of one. At least, they were as true a demon as he was) had taken a more humanoid form, and dressed it in a fashion strikingly similar to his own – a black jacket with tails, a collared shirt and bow, a floating top hat adorned with his winged star. The shadows that had made up their original body seemed to have hardened into some kind of shiny carapace, broken only by wide, staring eyes, a half-moon smile, and the starburst-shaped crystal spinning in the hollow of their left breast. 

With the leathery wings at the small of their back and their tapered, pointy limbs, their body was, essentially, a moving, misshapen version of his symbol. He… wasn't sure how to feel about that.

( _N̵҉o͢n͢͟e̶̛ wįl̸͘͡l̴̸ ̶b͢͞e̶ ̸͡able̷ ̨͠to ͏҉d̡͞e̛ny̵͞ ̧̧y͡ou̢r͢͝ ҉҉cla҉i̢͡m– yeah, okay, but owning someone is wrong– T͏̡҉h̴e̢̕y͘ w͘i͠l͡l ̷͜n̸ot͝ ̸̢d̸͟͠a͘͜r̕e̵͡–_ )

A sound broke him out of his thoughts. After a moment, he realized it was laughter.

The other demon was writhing on the ground, static arms ( _they have those?_ ) clutching helplessly at their stomach as they laughed. His eyes on them only set them shaking harder.

“What's so funny?”

It took them three tries, but they finally managed to gasp out, “P̡̕ai͜͠n̨ ̷̧i͘͞s̵͞ ҉҉̡ _h͠i̸͟l͠a҉̷r̡͜i̧ơ͠u҉͘s҉_!̴” before freezing and falling back into raucous laughter. “O̢h̶, ͢ģod͏, ͡is͘ ̢t̡h̡a̡t my̧ v̨oic̕e̛?I҉ ̶so̕und ͘l͢i͠kȩ ̛a ̸ _t͘w҉el̶v̵e ̶ye͞ar̢-o͝l̡d͡!_ ”

“Better yuk it up now, cause let me tell you, it stops being funny after the first couple decades or so.” He should have been insulted, but he was only barely restraining laughter himself, especially when they tripped over themself at the sight of their own appendages and shouted “I h҉ave _**LE͡EEE҉EEE̶GS̷**_!” loud enough to shake the imaginary trees.

“Okay, okay,” Alcor said at last. “Look – what should I call you? Do you have a name? Pronouns?”

They blinked at him. “What does ‘pronoun’ mean, in this context?”

“You know, how people talk about you in third person. Like, if you were talking about me… well, I’m cool with most stuff, I guess, but usually I use he/him, so you'd call me a ‘he’.”

“Oh! Okay.” They thought it over. “I think I’m more of a ?̶̶̨̘̖͓͚̳̼̗̟̲̻͔̬͇̕͟¿̡̨̠̼͈͉͓͉̲̪͚͙̱͚͍?̶̷̡̛̱̥̘̭̟̮̻̞̥̮, but you can use they/them if you want. It's a whole lot easier on the throat.” They paused, tilting their head. “Do I have a throat?”

“Probably not. Some demons have a simplified structure one might call a gullet, but I think there's only one recorded case so far of a demon having an actual, bona fide throat.” He shook his head. “Getting off track, here. Do you have a name?”

They watched him float for a moment, eyes narrowed, and then cautiously flapped their wings enough to bring themself to his level, beaming at the achievement. “Don't think so. Wanna give me one?”

“How about… Algieba?”

They grimaced and crossed their arms, obviously relishing the chance to do so. “Nope, sounds like a cross between ‘algae’ and ‘algebra’. Laaaaaame. I like Alioth better!”

He was already frowning, about to explain the name’s rich history and deeper meaning, when they suddenly perked up. “Oh! My first summoning. Sorry to cut and run, but duty calls!”

And then they were gone, a faint _see ya, bossman!_ drifting on the lack of wind. Alcor put his head in his hands, smiling despite himself. One way or another, working with his new assistant was bound to be… interesting.

He had a feeling it was going to be a chaotic century.


End file.
